


Stranger

by taskinst



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 12:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taskinst/pseuds/taskinst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn sits opposite a blond-haired, blue-eyed stranger on the bus every day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stranger

Today,  _he_  was carrying an opened notebook in his hand – vigorously reading what was scribbled all over the white pages. A quiz? An exam? I couldn’t be sure. But judging from the way his tongue peeked out from between his small pink lips and the way his azure blue eyes were focused solely on the notes before him, it must be something important.

The soft humming of the bus engine faded into the background – seemingly farther and farther away as I continued to observe  _him_.  
  
  


* * *

 

I saw him on the bus on my way to university every day. He was always dressed in his private school uniform – a white shirt and a pair of grey trousers – carrying a backpack that never looked too full. His white shirt would start out crisp on Monday, freshly ironed and clean, and progressively become wrinkled on Tuesday and Wednesday. On Thursday he would change into a fresh shirt – so his school uniform looked as good as new again. On Friday, he would have his guitar with him, slung over one shoulder as he walked onto the bus. He would let it slide to the ground as he took a seat opposite of me and place the instrument between his legs securely. Once he was comfortably seated, he would take out his iPod and listen to music for the rest of the bus ride.

It was cute – the way he would bob his head up and down to his music and let it carry him away; sometimes, he would make little hand movements as well. And me? I just watched him every day, because there was something captivating about him that I couldn’t put my finger on.  
  
  


* * *

 

But today, he was studying. I couldn’t remember the last time he did anything other than listen to music on the bus, so this was a new sight for me.  
  
  


* * *

 

Sometimes, our eyes would meet. He would look up from whatever he was doing, and for a fraction of a second, there would be a flash, of  _something_. There was no doubt that we both  _knew_.

But all things considered, we were complete strangers. We never spoke. We didn’t know each other’s names.  
  
  


* * *

 

Today, he had on a navy blue cardigan over his usual white shirt and grey trousers. Donning his white Beats by Dr. Dre headphones over his messy blond hair, he bounced to the music as best as he could on his seat, without a care for the world.

He was a bit beautiful… with his golden hair and his clear blue eyes, his smooth pale skin and his delicate features. Maybe ‘a bit’ was  _a bit_  of an understatement. He was actually breathtaking, and perhaps because he was so pale, his skin often took on a natural rosy blush. It suited him – gave him that youthful air that added to his delicate, child-like appearance. I had never stood next to him before since he always got on the bus after me and got off before me, but from what I had seen, he was small for his age and very slender. So he was a bit beautiful, in that lovely and slightly awkward yet cute kind of way.

It was Thursday, so he had changed out of the white shirt he wore for the past three days and was wearing a fresh new one.

The bus rounded a corner, and we were almost at his stop. His stop was a block away from his school – a private secondary school in the area for teenagers from well-off families. The school had a very good reputation in academics and you wouldn’t really pin the boy on the bus as one of their students just from observing his behavior – his attachment to his headphones and his love for music. He was never carrying any books nor did his backpack ever look like it held any. I saw him take out something to read on the bus for the first time a few days ago.

And to think I have sat across from him on the bus every single week day for months now.

He stood up, smoothing out the creases on his shirt and adjusting his headphones, pulling at a few stray strands of blond hair sticking out in random directions. It came as a surprise as the bus lurched to a stop and threw almost everyone standing off their feet, and somehow, I found myself in an unlikely situation.

We were close – closer than we ever were before. Our faces were less than two inches apart and his blue eyes bore into my dark ones as though we were exchanging the rhythm of our minds. His hand had shot up to clutch at my arm in an act of panic and his knee was wedged between my legs to keep him from falling any further ( _if he had fallen further…_ ). In that short moment as our breaths mingled and my heart beat sped up to impossible heights, we communicated more than ever before, in silence, without any words. I could almost feel his skin on mine as his head dipped in even further, and for a second, I felt like we both wanted to…

But he pulled back in one swift motion, stumbling over his feet as he caught himself. He adjusted the strap of his backpack awkwardly, his face turning a pretty shade of pink as he stammered out an apology.

“S-sorry,” he said. It was the first time I’d heard his voice. I was too taken aback by it to respond.

He must have taken my lack of response as a bad sign. Unable to meet my eyes, he lowered his baby blues and clutched at his bag strap before biting his lip and nodding at me. Then, he was gone.  
  
  


* * *

 

In that short moment of interaction, it was as though some kind of magic spell was broken. The spell that instilled the barrier between us that was ever-present until now… it was gone, just like that.

You know the feeling when something you have always depended on – like a safety net – gets taken away from you?

This change – it felt dangerous, but at the same time, it was right, like it was a part of the natural order, like it was a matter of course.  
  
  


* * *

 

It was raining again.

I had just left a meeting at a coffee shop with one of my classmates about a group project. Spring was coming, but it was still chilly as wisps of winter lingered in the air, suspended in space. I had one hand in the pocket of my maroon pea coat while the other held a large black umbrella as I walked down the pavement, the sound of shoes hitting asphalt concrete echoing at a steady rhythm.

It was a regular Friday afternoon in the downtown area of the city; people rushing past you with important places to be, people to meet, things to do. As I walked down the street, it was as though time was passing in slow motion for me and just me. Everyone walked by but I didn’t move at all.

People, buildings, scenery, everything was a blur.

And then suddenly, it all ceased to exist, and I was standing in a white box.

In the white box, there was only  _him_.

Him, with his back to me, staring forlornly into the distance, lost.

Why?

I halted my footsteps five feet away from him, just watching his back.

Watching him as he slowly turned; watching the way his soft blond hair, wet from the rain, was plastered against his forehead, unmoving; and the way he slowly revealed his face. I watched the way he blinked, closing his eyes, and then, after an eternity, opening them to reveal the widest, most beautiful ocean blues through his lashes.

That was when the world reappeared around me and people were passing by again. I found myself standing outside the entrance of a theater, surrounded by flashing lights and billboards showing upcoming films.

The rain was still pounding down on the pavement and he didn’t have an umbrella. He was soaking wet, his clothes plastered against his body like a glove and his hair flat and dripping. The raindrops trickled down his cheeks like tears. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but I couldn’t quite tell if he was crying.

It took him a moment before a flash of recognition lit up his face, and there was a sharp intake of breath. Moving forward, I stood beside him and sheltered his body from the rain with my umbrella. Close enough to cover him, but far enough to be respectable.

“What happened?” I asked with a tone of familiarity, as though I had known him for a long time, as though we were friends. Strange how you could feel so comfortable beside someone you’d never spoken to and didn’t even know the name of.

He looked at me, an air of surprise evident in his eyes, but that soon transformed into something else – something unreadable but pleasant.

“She broke up with me,” he said in a quiet voice. How I loved his voice. Ever since hearing him speak that one time on the bus, I’d been replaying his stammered apology in my head. I had made up my mind to speak to him next time I saw him on the bus, but…

He told me about the end of his relationship with another girl like I was supposed to know who ‘she’ was, but in a way, I felt like I did. I felt like I knew what he was talking about. It was just a feeling, an odd sort of understanding, but it was enough.

“Does it upset you?” I asked. Somehow, I had put an arm around his shoulders and pulled his body against mine. He was cold and wet from the rain – and my warmth was a much needed comfort for him.

“Not really,” he replied with surprising confidence. “She said my heart wasn’t in it anymore.”

A pause.

“Was she right?”

Another pause.

“Yeah.”

There was a silence as we contemplated the situation – my arms around the small blond boy, who was curled up against my chest, shivering and absorbing my body heat.

“But,” he began. I looked down at his face, watching as he bit his lip as though thinking of how to word what he wanted to say. He fixed his gaze on mine as if to search my eyes for an answer. “She was right; my heart hasn’t been in it ever since… you – ever since I noticed you.”

“I am a complete stranger,” I reminded him, but my actions contradicted my words as I cupped his face gently with my hand and brought him closer.

He shook his head.

“Not anymore. My name’s Niall,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

I smiled back, feeling the beat of my heart quicken at the blinding beauty of his smile, the pure joy on his face.

“I’m Zayn.”

My voice felt foreign to me, like it wasn’t me speaking. Was I really introducing myself to him? Did he really just tell me his name? Was I dreaming? I couldn’t grasp it – reality felt distant.

“Hi Zayn,” he said, testing the sound of my name, “Nice to meet you.”

He took my hand in his and shook it awkwardly – because we were standing so close, under an umbrella as the rain continued to pitter-patter around us.

“Nice to meet you too, Niall,” I replied, the smile on my face growing.

And then, somehow, we were walking down the street together, hand in hand, with no destination in mind.  
  
  


* * *

 

“I wasn’t sad because she left,” Niall said suddenly. I turned to look at him, a confused expression on my face. He had definitely looked like he was crying, but the rain obscured the tears. “I was sad because I thought the reason for the breakup would never acknowledge me.”

“I’m sorry.”

I didn’t know why I felt the need to apologize.

“But then you were there; somehow, you turned up when I wished you would.”

Silence.

“I would have been there eventually.”

“What do you mean?”

Another silence.

“I used to skip class – every day, all the time. But now I am motivated to get up in the morning.”

Niall stopped walking as he stared at me, a strange look on his face. But a smile suddenly broke out, and laughter threatened to escape from his throat.

“Are you always such a cheese?” he asked, lightly slapping my arm.

I shook my head at him, smiling.

“Only because I look forward to riding the bus every day.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the record I personally dislike the ending. :( But hope you like it.


End file.
